Honestly, Harry!
by AvalonianDream
Summary: Harry and Hermione exploit various aspects of magic as defined in fanfiction to achieve tremendous succes in stupidly easy ways.
1. Fidelius Charm

It was a completely ordinary day at Hogwarts. The headmaster was eating lemon drops, the amphibian defense teacher was handing out detentions to everyone who got a right answer, and the potions teacher was gleefully tormenting students while concocting his latest scheme to get Harry Potter expelled. In the library, a boy with a lightning bolt scar and a girl with bushy hair were researching methods to keep their secret defense club hidden. It was an ordinary day, that is, until the girl came across a reference to the Fidelius charm.

"The Fidelius charm is a complex, multifaceted and potent charm used to conceal a secret inside an individual's soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to find – unless, of course, the Secret Keeper chooses to divulge it. When the charm is cast, any person who knows the secret - besides the caster and the Secret Keeper – instantly loses the knowledge. Of course, the caster cannot divulge the secret; should he or any other person with whom the Secret Keeper has shared the information try, their attempt will simply be overheard."

"Wait, Hermione – there is no limitation?"

"Not that I can find…"

"How do I cast it?"

"Point your wand at the person you desire to be secret keeper, say _'Mando tibi cum'_ followed by the wording of your secret. It is important that-"

Harry interrupted, pointing his wand at Hermione: "_Mando tibi cum_ 'the incantation for the Killing Curse is Avada Kedavra'!"

"Harry what-"

"_Mando tibi cum_ 'the incantation for the Cruciatus Curse is Crucio'. _Mando tibi cum_ 'the incantation for the Imperius Curse is Imperio'."

"Honestly, Harry. If you could remove the knowledge of a curse like that, don't you think someone would have already done it?"

Harry looked around, spotting Terry Boot at an adjacent table. "Hey Terry, the incantation for the Imperius Curse is imperio. Mind telling me the incantation for the Imperius Curse?"

Harry and Hermione watched in disbelief as a blank look crossed the Ravenclaw's face. "I'm sorry Harry, I don't know it."

"…"

"…"

"Well Hermione, you must admit the book _did_ say the charm was potent. And perhaps…"

"Harry, you've got that look in your eye."

"What look?"

"The I-have-a-stupid-crazy-idea-that-might-get-us-all-killed-look. You know. The one you usually get."

Harry put on his most innocent expression. "I honestly have no idea what you mean, Hermione."

The only response was a huff and a pair of crossed arms.

"Alright, so I do have a crazy idea. You know how the ministry is lying to everybody?"

"It's kind of hard to avoid spotting. What with them ignoring the return of You-Know-Who and everything."

"Well… _Mando tibi cum _'the ministry is not lying about the return of Voldemort'."

Across the castle, students suddenly began screaming. In a sixth year defense class, Dolores Umbridge managed to look simultaneously horrified and triumphant before passing out, clutching her heart. In the Ministry of Magic, Amelia Bones dropped her monocle on a desk, while Cornelius Fudge had a face matching the color of his bowler. At a table in the Hogwarts library, Terry Boot shouted a horrified 'Oh my god You-Know-You is back'. Hermione merely stared with an open mouth.

"Uhm. Guess it worked?"

"Harry."

"So… I would cast it again to hide Dumbledore's Army, but it doesn't really seem necessary anymore…"

"Harry."

"I mean, we'll probably be allowed to train for defense now that everybody knows that Voldemort is back..."

"Harry."

"Perhaps we'll even get a proper defense teacher…"

"Harry James Potter, do you realize what you just did?!"

Snapping out of his reverie, Harry turned to his companion. Upon seeing the indignant expression on her face, the throbbing vein in her forehead, and the hands fisted at her sides, he responded with the only defense he could think of: "Uhm… Helped you get a better defense teacher for our OWL year?

"Honestly, Harry! You just _brainwashed everybody_! Better defense teacher… Hmph!"

"Well, you've got to admit it will be easier to wage war against… him… like… this…"

"Harry! You have that look again! Stop!"

"_Mando tibi cum _'Lord Voldemort is not a half-blood named Tom Riddle'. There, that should lose him some followers."

Hermione's irate scream was completely drowned out by a shout from the other end of the library. "The Dark Lord is a half-blood? My father will hear about this!"

"Hmm. He's got a point. If we can do this, then so can the Death Eaters… _Mando tibi cum _'the first part of the incantation for the Fidelius charm is _m__ando tibi cum_'"

"Honestly, Harry. That was completely unnecessary. You know the other side doesn't use logic. And while I can keep your attention from the shiny, world-breaking charm: Please stop messing with reality?"

"Oooooh, Shiny. I have a good one. _Mando tibi cum _'Lord Voldemort has legs'."

In the town of Little Hangleton, a certain Dark Lord collapsed to the floor with a furious scream of 'Potter'. This was complimented nicely by the supersonic 'Harry!' that emanated from a certain female in the Hogwarts library.

After a few minutes of screaming, pulling her hair, and walking in circles, Hermione finally sat down with a defeated look. "Alright, if you can't beat them… Join them."

"That's the spirit! Got any good ideas in that brilliant mind of yours?"

Despite being somewhat placated by the compliment to her mental acuity, Hermione still had an annoyed tone in her voice when she responded. "Honestly, Harry. Of course I do."

Harry groaned as he recognized Hermione's lecture-imminent voice.

"Under common circumstances, human knowledge interacts with reality under an _open world assumption_; that is, if a piece of information is not known, then it is not necessarily because it is false. What the Fidelius Charm does is to enforce a mental _closed world assumption_ on the piece of reality protected by the Charm; that is, the mind is made to believe that the unknown – the secret – is false."

"Hermione, I'm lost. Can you start over from 'common circumstances'? Or skip to the end?"

Hermione merely huffed and continued undaunted. "What your thoughtless experimentation proves is that by making the negation of a piece of information unknown and thereby false, you make the negation of the negation true – thereby planting the piece of information in the mind."

"Honestly, Hermione."

"So far, you have used it to plant a general statement. I am going to plant a _conditional_ statement."

"I still don't follow."

"Honestly, Harry. Watch and learn. _Mando tibi cum _'It is not true that if a person bears the Dark Mark or has been resurrected by a dark ritual then he must go to the ministry atrium, expose his right arm, and drink a vial of Draught of Living Death every twenty four hours in order to survive.'"

"…"

"You may compliment my brilliance now."

"…"

"Or applaud, I guess. Whichever you prefer."

"…"

"You could of course ask me to write down my findings and nominate me for the Magical Nobel. Or the peace prize, I guess, if it was not for the statue of secrecy. I did just end the war."

"…"

* * *

"Harry. You have the look again. Whatever you're thinking is not a good idea."

"…"

"Harry!"

"…

"Harry James Potter, you will _not_ mess with reality again!"

"_Mando tibi cum _'Harry James Potter and Hermione Jane Granger are not rulers of the world.'"

"Honestly, Harry!"


	2. Portus

It was a completely ordinary day at Hogwarts. The headmaster was counting lemon drops in an attempt to stretch his supply – he had had to limit his exorbitant sweets budget in order to acquire the necessary funds for a dangerous international tournament. A tearful Draco Malfoy was writing an angry letter to his father regarding an impromptu demonstration of the human-to-ferret transfiguration carried out by the defense professor. Meanwhile, said defense professor was busy stealing polyjuice potion to hide that he was, in fact, not very concerned with _defending_ against the dark arts. In the library, a boy with a lightning bolt scar and a girl with bushy hair were researching methods to keep the boy from getting eaten by a dragon. It was an ordinary day, that is, until the boy explained a plan suggested by the defense professor.

"You want to do _what_?!"

"Well," Harry explained, "Professor Moody suggested that I play to my strengths. And I figured I'm pretty good at Quidditch, so I thought I would summon my broom and outfly the dragon."

Hermione gave him an angry glare. "You want to _outfly_ a _dragon_. Of all the stupid, reckless plans you have made, this one is… not that much out of the ordinary, actually. But please, for once let _me_ make the plan so you don't get yourself _killed_ or _expelled_ or something."

"If you have a better idea, I'm all ears."

"Well, your talk of brooms did give me an idea…"

"Yay!"

"No Harry, you _don't_ get to fly in this plan."

"Aww…"

"Now please sit still while I go find a book on magical transportation."

After a few minutes in which Harry gleefully conjured and immolated miniature effigies of dragons, Snape, dragons, Malfoy, and dragons, Hermione returned, nose already buried in a thick tome. About three steps from the table, she began reading.

"A Portkey is an object enchanted to instantly bring anyone touching it to a specific location. Portkeys may be triggered either through contact with another object – a person, a gloved hand, a wand – or at a specific time. They can be created to last for multiple or only one use, and may or may not return to the original destination upon a secondary activation. The incantation to create a portkey is _portus_."

"Hmm, I think I see. So I can create a portkey to the egg, and then-"

"Honestly, Harry. That's stupid and reckless. Just like _all_ of your plans. No, here's what you do…"

After a few minutes of conferring, Harry felt much better about the upcoming first task. There was, however, still research to be carried out.

"Hermione, I need a phonebook!"

* * *

"And now, last but definitely not least, our final contestant – Harry James Potter!" Ludo Bagman was in his element commentating. "And here he is, our very own Boy-Who-Lived! I believe we are in for a spectacular display of magic!"

With a determined stride and a wave at Hermione, Harry walked towards the dragon.

"Our young hero is pointing his wand at the dragon's chain – what does he intend to do? I believe he's about to-"

Harry shouted _portus_, resulting in the instantaneous disappearance of the dragon.

"Well, that was unexpected." After a few minutes of staring, Bagman had regained his composure. "Is he… can he even _do that_?!"

Albus Dumbledore leaned in and whispered something in Bagman's ear.

"For those curious I have just been informed that the dragon has reappeared in a secret dungeon containing an enormous potions lab under a small cottage in Spinner's End, Cokeworth."

With a loud crash and an even louder yell, Severus Snape fell out of his seat.

* * *

"So, they expect you to dive into the lake in the middle of February? Honestly, their tasks are even worse than your plans. Luckily, you have me and they don't."

"So you have a plan? I was thinking of simply making a two-way portkey to the middle of the lake, but that's entirely too predictable and not nearly reckless enough…"

"Honestly, Harry. Of course I have a plan. And since my primary plan is too _boring_, you should be glad I have a secondary plan. I might even let you use a broom."

Harry's head hit the table as his lecture sense tingled. He did, however, keep his ears open since Hermione had promised an interesting plan.

"Now, Harry, consider how a person is capable of creating and holding onto a portkey before giving it to another, for whom it instantly activates. It stands to reason that it is possible to create a _selective_ portkey that ignores specific individuals."

"For example if Dumbledore wanted to transport me from the Ministry of Magic to Hogwarts, while remaining in the Ministry."

"Precisely. Furthermore, consider which properties constitute an 'object'. Importantly, there is no limitation on the _size_ of the object, nor is there a limitation on the _state_ of the object. As such, there should be nothing preventing you from creating a giant portkey, a liquid portkey, or even a _giant liquid portkey_. Are you following me?"

Harry looked positively gleeful.

"Harry, I don't like that look in your eye. Please don't mutilate my brilliant plan?"

"I was just thinking I might reuse a destination…"

* * *

"… and the hostage for our final contestant – our very own Boy-Who-Lived – is the beautiful Ms. Hermione Granger! Now, let the task begin!"

While the three other champions jumped into the lake, Harry summoned his Firebolt. Once the broom appeared, he pointed his wand at the lake.

"It looks like our youngest contestant is finally ready to cast a spell! We might even see a bit of excitement here today – staring at a lake for an hour gets a bit boring. I believe he is trying to- What in the name of Merlin? Did he just turn the Black Lake into a selective portkey, taking everybody but Ms. Granger?"

Harry calmly mounted his broom and flew towards the middle of the former lake.

"Well… We might as well just declare him the winner. For those interested, I have just been informed that the lake – and all its inhabitants, including the other champions – has reappeared in a secret dungeon containing an enormous potions lab under a small cottage in Spinner's End, Cokeworth."

Once again, Severus Snape had an accident with his chair.

* * *

"A maze?"

"They have _ruined_ the _Quidditch pitch_, Hermione. They can't _do that_. It's a crime against nature."

"Please focus."

"I _am_ focused. On the outrage that is the lack of proper Quidditch pitch. I think I'll write a letter to the minister, I should use all that fame for a good cause…"

"Harry."

"I'm told that I'm quite wealthy as well. Perhaps I can bribe someone. Or purchase a seat on the board of governors. Hmm…"

"Harry James Potter!"

"Honestly, Hermione. You have to prioritize. It's the _quidditch pitch_." Hermione seemed like she was about to explode, so Harry wisely elected to restate his priorities and compliment her brilliance. "Of course, preparing for the third task is important as well. You of course have an amazing plan already prepared in that wonderful mind of yours?"

"Well, now that you mention it, I do. It seems to me that your greatest obstacle is finding the location of the cup – by obtaining that piece of information, you will be able to win merely by creating a portkey directly to the cup. I have found this nifty little spell – _Point Me_ – that makes your wand point north. Now, I realize the spell in itself is completely useless in finding the cup, I believe I can alter it to instead point at the cup." Hermione explained.

"Your brilliance has momentarily dazzled me and I cannot see how that will assist me. Elaborate, please?"

"Harry, how good are you at muggle geometry?"

* * *

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the first contestant – our very own Boy-Who-Lived – is ready to enter the maze! Since he was the only one to score points in the second task, he will have a ten minute lead on the other champions. Begin!"

Harry waved at Hermione, and began conjuring.

"Rather than enter the maze, Mr. Potter has chosen to conjure… a pad of graphing paper and a muggle pencil? And he has created two portkeys?"

After casting _Point Me_ and scribbling something down, Harry activated the first portkey, arriving on the other side of the maze. Again, he cast _Point Me_ and made a note. Finally, Harry activated the other portkey, arriving at a point along the side of the maze, and made a third note.

It was a confused Ludo Bagman who reported. "Professor Vector – the Hogwart's arithmancy teacher – has instructed me to explain that Mr. Potter is likely using a method of muggle arithmancy known as _triangulation_. But surely, a muggle method cannot help Mr. Potter in- Oh, he just travelled to the Triwizard cup by portkey. I guess that concludes a spectacularly underwhelming tournament. We really should have seen that coming."

* * *

"So Harry, what happened when you arrived in that graveyard?"

"Well, the moment I arrived I got stunned by Voldemort and apparently used in a dark ritual to revive him. When he reenervated me, we were surrounded by Death Eaters."

Hermione was white as a sheet. "Dear Merlin, Harry. How did you get away? I know you didn't reuse his portkey, if you had you would have been taken back to the Quidditch pitch…"

"That's assuming he was actually stupid enough to make it a two-way portkey. Granted, purebloods tend to be _quite_ stupid, but that would have been completely ridiculous."

"Then what did you do?"

"Voldemort apparently wanted to duel me in front of the Death Eaters, and gave me my wand. I figured if he had an audience, I should have one too, and turned the ground of the entire graveyard into a portkey to the holding cells in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

"…"

"Of course, Voldemort himself got away, but most of his Death Eaters were captured."

"…"

"I figure we'll find some smart way of taking care him, too."

"…"

"I mean, how hard can it be?"

"…"

* * *

"Harry James Potter! I can't believe you did that!" Hermione was livid. "You can't just go off and defeat _Voldemort_ without telling me!"

"In my defense I _did_ try to tell you, but you kept talking about Snape's essay-"

"Professor Snape! And you know very well that you _should _have been working on that!"

"Hermione, there's _two weeks _until the due date, not everyone is as-"

"Don't try to change the subject! And you most certainly did not tell me that you had a plan to defeat Voldemort. Ohhhh no. What you said was 'Hermione, I'm bored. Let's go do something else'. I assure you I would not have kept working if you had said 'Hermione, I have a plan to defeat Voldemort', or even 'Hermione, I'm going off on my own to do something _stupid_' – the latter of which is quite a bit closer to the truth!"

"Well, the essay _was_ pretty boring-"

"_That_ is what you focus on? Gah!"

"I didn't want to distract your indubitably brilliant mind away with such trivial tasks – after all, there was a good chance that you would revolutionize the field of brewing while working on the assignment, so in the interest of scientific progress I had to let you keep writing."

Hermione huffed. "Honestly, Harry. While I _am _brilliant you cannot use flattery to get out of trouble every time."

"… It was for the Greater Good?"

"Nor can you appeal to my irrational and unhealthy trust in figures of authority by quoting Dumbledore."

"Damn… I'll buy you ice cream next time we're in Hogsmeade?"

"Well, I do like ice crea- Harry James Potter! Stop trying to bribe me!"

"…"

"What?"

"Did it work?"

"Uhm. Yea. But that's beside the point. And you still haven't told me how you won. Now spill!"

"Well, I started by sending him this." Harry withdrew a letter from his pocket and handed it to Hermione, prompting her to read aloud.

"_Dear Voldie. _

_I have a special evening planned just for the two of us. The letter is a portkey that will activate at 8 pm – wear something nice. _

_XOXO, your Bella."_

"This worked?" She sounded skeptical.

"Well yes. He did show up looking like he wanted to torture someone, so I'm not entirely sure he believed it. Although, he _was_ wearing a tie… Maybe it's just their thing. But I digress – The portkey took him to the Shrieking Shack, were I was waiting for him. The moment he showed up, I hit him with a spell," Harry explained.

"Clever. So what did you use?"

"_Portus."_

"Honestly, Harry. You turned Voldemort into a portkey?"

Harry leaned back, enjoying his moment of triumph. "Yup! After all, there is no condition stating a portkey has to be an inanimate object, and we know that the spell works on organic material such as leather. The portkey is multi-use and activates on contact with literally _anything_, including earth's atmosphere."

With a dawning sensation of dread, Hermione demanded elaboration. "Harry, where does that portkey lead?"

"Alpha Centauri."

Hermione gaped at Harry in disbelief.

"You know, the closest extrasolar star system."

"Harry James Potter, please tell me you did _not_ turn Voldemort into an experimental portkey to _space_?!"

Pretending complete ignorance of the impending explosion, Harry gave a winning smile. "And the best part is that if he tries to apparate back to earth, he will instantly activate the portkey the moment he contacts the atmosphere. Of course, it is likely that he will die from space exposure before he even has the chance to attempt an apparition. In that case he will be stranded in wraith form 4.3 lightyears from earth, giving us somewhere around twenty million years to prepare…"

Hermione huffed. "Honestly, Harry. That was dangerous. What if he had transported the entire planet there? You don't know nearly enough about portkey travel to attempt an experiment like that. And to make matters worse, you didn't work on the essay, potentially costing Gryffindor points! If you hadn't promised me ice cream…"

* * *

When Hermione came down to breakfast and noticed the completely empty Slytherin hourglass, she knew something was up. After one look at Gryffindor table, she deduced the cause.

"Harry, I know that look. What stupid thing have you done _this_ time?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Stop trying to look innocent and tell me!"

"…"

"Harry James Potter!"

"Well… I may have turned Malfoy's favorite bottle of shampoo into a portkey…"

A severely subdued Draco Malfoy arrived in the great hall, glancing nervously between the Slytherin table and the staff table, where a furious McGonagall was staring at him, muttering something about bed sheets having to be changed. As he sat down between Crabbe and Goyle, he could be heard whispering: "My father will _never_ hear about this…"

"Honestly, Harry!"

* * *

**I realize that my altered _Point Me_-spell is not quite canon, but I've often seen this version used in fanfiction - and it's just too exploitable not to include.  
**

**Mariann: Yes, Harry is supposed to be the pragmatic experimentalist whereas Hermione is the cautious theoreticist. :)**


	3. Bonus Chapter: Grand Gestures

It was not an ordinary day at Hogwarts. The headmaster was working frantically to placate the board of governors – they had come close to suspending him when his gargantuan sweets budget had been publicized. The defense professor – formerly, potions professor - had secluded himself in his quarters and was actually _smiling_ as he gleefully ripped the wrapping paper from a thin, square-shaped package, revealing the names of John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John. In the library, a boy with a lightning bolt scar and a boy with red hair had gathered around a table. The presence of the boys in the library was not in itself out of the ordinary – even the redheaded one could occasionally be seen there, although he often referred to the place as "The Hogwarts Prison". What was definitely out of the ordinary was the absence of a certain bushy-haired girl who was, in fact, the topic of conversation for the two boys.

"So Harry, why am I here again?"

"I need your help with something. You see, Hermione and I had a teensy tiny fight-"

"What'd you do?"

"Why do you always assume that _I_ did something?"

"It's you?"

"Point taken. Well, you know how Hermione has been slightly obsessed with _Hogwarts: A History_ for years? I figured that since she's so fond of it I should at least try to read it, so I asked Hermione if I could borrow her copy."

Ron paled. "Oh Merlin, Harry – even I know not to mess with _Hogwarts: A History_. What happened?"

"I got the book. Only, when I started reading I realized that the book has like _thousands_ of pages. And they're all _immensely_ boring."

If possible, Ron achieved an even whiter shade of pale. "That sounds only slightly worse than an encounter with You-Know-Who."

"My thoughts exactly. Obviously, I had to find an alternative solution, and as luck would have it I had just been reading about spellcrafting."

"And you distracted Hermione with that while you ran?"

"Of course not. What if she asked questions pertaining to _Hogwarts: A History_? Honestly, Ron. No, I invented a spell that would copy all the information in the book directly into my mind. "

"…"

"Or at least, that's what I thought the spell did. What it actually did was to overwrite every single page in the book with an ancient Sumerian translation of Lou Bega's Mambo No. 5."

"How in Merlin's name did that happen?"

"Beats me. I'm not a spellcrafter."

"Yet you used Hermione's copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ to test an experimental spell of your own design. You _definitely_ belong in the house of the brave."

"It was an emergency! I almost had to _read the whole thing_! But anyway, I thought the best way to get back in her good graces was by making some kind of gesture – for example, killing Voldemort."

Ron groaned. "Honestly, Harry. Not again."

"And that's where you come in!"

"Harry, the last time I tried to help you with one of your schemes we crashed the Knight Bus into a hotel in Minsk, got Luna kidnapped by the Russian Mafia, and almost started a nuclear war while trying to rescue her."

"Right. That was… an unfortunate series of accidents."

"Harry, we're still legally banned from entering Magical Belarus, and we're on nine different terrorist watchlists."

"We'll do better this time! Promise!"

"You can't be serious."

"Of course not. That's my godfather. Will you help me?"

"…"

"…Please?"

Ron sighed. "Alright, I'll help you. "

"Yay!"

* * *

"Actually, Harry, I'm quite glad you asked me to help you. I have this idea, you see…"

"Do tell, Ron!"

"Well, I overheard Lavender talking to Parvati the other day. They were discussing something they called _unresolved sexual tension_. Apparently, when people come into conflict, it's often because they have trouble expressing their latent romantic feelings for one another…"

"That's brilliant, Ron! I always thought there was something more to the way Dumbledore and Voldemort spoke about each other. And I _was_ told that I would win the war using the power of _love_…"

"Harry, what are you writing?"

"Here, read!"

"Honestly, Harry? We're going to defeat Voldemort by _reading_?"

"Have some faith, Ron. The pen is mightier than the sword!"

Dubiously, Ron began:

"_Dear Voldemort,_

_I just happened to come across an extra bottle of Elixir of Life the other day. I have attached it to this letter. I hope you can find some use for it._

_Sincerely, _

_An anonymous fan."_

"Now we just need to brew a love potion, and send this on the way…"

* * *

Dumbledore was sitting in his office – still frantically balancing budgets – when a majestic black owl swooped in with a letter and a dozen red roses. Hands shaking in anticipation, the headmaster opened the letter and began reading.

"_Albie,_

_We should totally date._

_Your Tom."_

Dumbledore sighed. "The things I do for the Greater Good…"

"_Dearest Tom, …"_

* * *

"So, considering the fact that Dumbledore is currently crying and mumbling something about how 'all Dark Lords are the same ', can we conclude that our plan has failed?"

Ron's shoulders slumped. "I suppose so. On to the next?"

"Of course! I don't think we can this alone, however, so I'm going to bring in some help."

Ron blanched. "Please not the twins? They'll prank me as much as the enemy."

"Relax. The twins would be too obvious. We need someone Voldemort would never suspect."

"Oh? Who do you have in mind?"

"Filch."

"…"

"Obviously it can't be anyone magical, that might make him suspicious."

"…"

"And Filch hates us enough that he would be right at home with the Death Eaters."

"Honestly, Harry. He would never agree to help us."

Harry's lips quirked upwards in a vaguely diabolical smile. "He will if we motivate him properly. I was thinking… we kidnap Mrs. Norris!"

"Brilliant!"

"Thank you. As a matter of fact, I ordered a large amount of catnip for just that purpose…"

* * *

"Okay, Ron. Operation Catnap is go. The bait is in place…"

"I have the target in sight. She is heading in your direction."

"Roger that. I see her… Preparing the ambush."

"Harry! That's McGonagall, not Mrs. Norris! Abort! Abandon ship! Run, Harry, Run!"

"Abandon ship?"

"I panicked, didn't know what to say. Just shup up and run."

* * *

"So Harry, why are we at the Wizengamot again?"

Harry leaned in and whispered his response, careful not to disturb the current discussion. "Well, since our last plan only succeeded in getting McGonagall addicted to catnip, I figured I'd ask someone for advice. Neville recommended I read up on the legal practices of Wizarding Britain, and here we are…"

"Sure, I get that – but what have you planned?"

"I found an obscure law from 1236 that allows you to 'demand compensation' for the damage caused when Lucius Malfoy gave Ginny the diary. I thought we could deprive Voldemort of some of his financial resources this way."

"Brilliant!

A gavel hit a table, and a booming voice filled the chamber. "The chair recognizes Harry of House Potter, speaking on behalf of Ronald of House Weasley. The floor is yours!"

"My thanks, your judgifulness. Forsooth, I come bef-"

The gavel again hit the table. "Chief! Warlock!"

"Sorry. Ahem. As I was saying, your Chiefwarlockifulness. Friends, Wizards, Countrymen! A grave injury has been done by the House of Malfoy unto the House of Weasley! You have all heard the story – A dark artifact was placed by Lucius Malfoy in the possession of Ginevra, youngest daughter of Weasley. A dark artifact which endangered not only her, but every student at Hogwarts along with her! And yet, House Weasley has yet to receive compensation…"

"Mr. Potter, where are you going with this?"

"Therefore, on behalf of Ronald of House Weasley, I demand proper compensation as specified by the Honor Act of 1236 from house Malfoy!"

"Please tell me you're joking."

"Of course not!"

A sigh was heard and a gavel once again forcibly encountered a table. "Very well, Mr. Potter. A betrothal between Ronald of House Weasley and the youngest daughter of House Malfoy shall be drawn up. Of course, since House Malfoy has no daughters, the contract shall be between Ronald of Weasley and Draco of Malfoy."

Ron looked up at the Chief Warlock with a resounding shout of "What? I thought I would get his money?"

"No, Mr. Weasley. The Honor Act of 1236 clearly states that the compensation cannot be financial in nature."

Harry paled. "Oh Merlin, I knew I should have read the whole law."

* * *

In one of Hogwart's many corridors, Ron was ambushed by a tearful Lavender Brown.

"I thought we had something! Do I mean nothing to you? I had to hear it from _Parvati_, who heard it from Demelza Robin, who was told by Terry Boot, who-"

"Hear what, Lav?"

"That you're betrothed to _Malfoy_, you berk! Why didn't you tell me?"

"In my defense it just happened yesterday! And I'm not marrying Malfoy, it's-"

Lavender's mood instantly turned around. "You're defying your family for me? Oh _Won-won_, that's so _romantic_!"

"I-"

"We'll have to elope as soon as possible, of course. Or maybe we could get married in secret? Then when you're in the church with Malfoy, I'll burst in and tell him you're mine… Oh, it'll be just like in the novels!"

"Honestly Lav, we don't have to-"

"Oh, maybe we could reveal it to our families first – wouldn't it be romantic if they started a feud because of us?"

"Lav, you-"

"Perhaps I could duel Malfoy for the right to your hand! Of course, he's a much better duelist than me at the moment, so I would have to go into hiding and become a pirate for some years – do you think you can postpone the wedding?"

"Seriously, just-"

"Maybe we could concoct an elaborate scheme to fake our own deaths… I'll get the poison!"

Before Ron could say another word, Lavender stormed off – although going by the volume of his shouted "Bloody hell", neither her nor the rest of Hogwarts could avoid hearing it.

* * *

"I'm sorry I ruined your book, Hermione."

"It's fine. I'm sorry too. I guess I overreacted just a tiny bit."

Harry waved her off. "Nothing to apologize for. I got you a new copy to replace the one I ruined, though."

"Harry, that's sweet. You didn't have to get me anything…"

"I wanted to. And, well…"

"Harry, I love you and all – but please tell me you didn't do anything stupid?"

"…"

"You didn't try to defeat Voldemort or something?"

"…"

"Merlin, you totally did. Harry, what's our first rule about dark lords?"

Harry sighed. "Tell Hermione before I rush off. I know. But I wanted to impress you, and killing dark lords is just something I know I'm good at, so I thought… Please don't be mad?"

"I'm not mad. Just… Be careful, okay?"

"I always am. I promise."

"Uh, sure…

"I am!"

"Right… Anyway, what went wrong?"

"Why does something have to go wrong?"

Hermione huffed. "Honestly, Harry. Are you saying everything went according to your plan?"

"Well no. I kinda got Ron and Malfoy engaged. And McGonagall now has a tiny little drug problem. And Dumbledore almost eloped with Voldemort. And-"

"I get the picture. Honestly, Harry!"

* * *

**While I do have a proper entry planned, this _really_ wanted to be written. **


End file.
